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bonnefois| #06 - Vacation |
Title: Several Attempts At Relaxation, Most Of Which Failed
Series: FE10 (Dark Chocolate verse)
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, BoydMist
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2750
Summary: Giving Soren vacation time was like dolling out a punishment.
A/N:
I wanted to title this (and the series) "Saccharina" but then I found out that was part of the Latin term used for Silverfish..and Algae. Not a good name for a fic, obviously.
This is in the same series as Dark Chocolate and Anti-Romanticism. It's shortly after Anti-Romanticism but before the timeline started byguety in Uninvited Guest.
A very Merry Christmas to someone who I suppose will remain unnamed. I hope your Christmas gets much better after a hard couple years!!
1.
Giving Soren vacation time was like dolling out a punishment. Soren didn't know what to do with himself when he wasn't working. Work was what gave the world balance and without it, he was left with vast tracts of time to fill. When he wasn't working, he was studying Organic Chemistry for exams which were technically months away, but Soren's motto was to always be prepared. Whatever time wasn't taken up by working at a job he hated to pay for college, cramming for college or taking in nourishment was spent with Ike. Nowadays their together time consisted of Soren collapsing on the couch and falling asleep on Ike's lap before ten.
That did not mean, however that Soren would relish a break. Last time he had been laid off, he had alphabetized Ike's entire DVD collection, organized his closet by color and size, retiled the kitchen, and thrown out a hidden stash of questionable magazines that Ike claimed he'd never seen in his life when asked.
(Soren didn't doubt it. Ike would have no use for Big Breasted Biker Girls Monthly.The stash turned out to be Boyd's, and Soren took great pleasure in informing Mist of this. The result was something like a nuclear explosion and Boyd was put 'on probation' for an indeterminate time, anywhere from a week to the rest of his life for not sharing his stash.)
Soren did not do traditional relaxation. Or at all. Once Ike had attempted to take him to the beach. It had been disastrous, to say the least. Not in the explosions sense, but Ike had been ogled by bikini wearing girls Soren had been hot and uncomfortable and well away that he was wasting precious time.
But when Ike asked with an unassuming smile even Soren couldn't refuse.
"We really need to get out of the apartment," Ike said.
"We've already gone to the beach," Soren said. "If I remember correctly it failed the first time. It's highly unlikely that this will make any difference than the first."
"Yeah, but that was with the whole family. This time, it's just going to be us."
Us and your adoring fans Soren thought bitterly.
But he made no vocal complaint and went to change into something in the other room. Ike watched on, leaning against the door frame.
"You're not wearing black this time," Ike said. "Last time you managed to get heatstroke and sunburned, despite wearing a turtleneck."
"Wet clothes lose their protection," Soren muttered, as he opened up his closet. He picked up a gray turtleneck. It wasn't as if he owned anything in other shades.
Ike bent down to the closet and pulled out one of his own slightly less wrinkled shirts.
"Here, wear this," he said.
It was a lose blue shirt, three sizes too large for Soren.
"It's too large. I'll be swimming in it," Soren said.
Which was the closest Soren would come to swimming in anything.
"Go on," Ike said.
Soren pursed his lips but pulled the t-shirt over his head. I hung like a short dress on him, the collar was low enough that his clavicle peeked through.
"Looks fine, let's go," Ike said.
"Ike, I don't have anything else on."
"You could go like that. It doesn't look bad."
"Ike, the last time I looked like this, I didn't make it to work, because we never left for the restaurant," Soren said.
"Good point," Ike said.
But, considering the sand, and sun burns to come, that might be a good thing. Even though he was only half Daein, Soren didn't tan.
Soren didn't have wiles, at least of the seductive variety, nor did he waste money on overpriced pieces.
But, if all Ike's many admirers were going to be armed with bikinis, tight shorts, speedos and thongs, then Soren was wasn't going unarmed.
He left the shirt on.
2.
So much for being alone. Already Soren saw familiar, and for the moment, unwelcome faces.
Mist had gotten a cute new ruffled yellow Tankini and wished to try out. Boyd carried their things, stumbling behind her with an oversized umbrella. After this, she made him unpack the basket, for not sharing his magazines for her to see. The fact that Mist would want to read Big Breasted Biker Girl Monthly was a new, though not particularly stunning, revelation. She was, after all, Ike's sister.
("What else are boys for, other than lifting, anyways?" she'd once joked. Joked too close to Heather who couldn't agree more--except she added They're good for gifts to give to your favorite girls!")
Even more unwelcome, was a woman in biniki as thin as dental floss, with a floral cover up tied about her hips. Her dark hair fell in soft waves down her back, and she reeked of some perfume that surely had some promise of luring men.
The restraining order against her would end in days and several lovesick calls left Soren ever vigilant about her next move. She'd already threatened to go to the tabloids and paint a picture of her and Ike wedded in a secret ceremony. With people like Aimee around, Soren's paranoia was entirely founded.
She sat the exact amount stated by restraining order. Which was still uncomfortably close as she ate, openly flirted--as if that would make Ike 'jealous'--and endlessly took off her cover up, only to put it back on again.
Soren sat beneath the shade of an umbrella, as far from the crowd as he could manage. He didn't dare go too far out in the sun, not even with his 5 million SPF sunscreen on. Everyone knew it wasn't really waterproof. Besides, he was Daein.
The drive there had been the best part so far, Soren thought to himself. If only because Ike and Soren were alone then. The road to the Gallian coast offered lovely scenery. The beaches contrasted by the forests, and the hints of luguz settlements between the branches. Soren, however, wasn't watching the scenery.
Everything after went downhill, in Soren's opinion. The beach had grown far too noisy to read the report he'd snuck into a book to read.
Boyd could think of nothing better than dragging a kicking and screaming Mist into the water and splashing her. Had she ever taken a nap, he probably would have stolen her umbrella and buried her under layers of sand.
Soren looked at the water with disdain, glowered at the sand and glared at every bikini clad beauty that asked Ike to 'help put suntan lotion on their back'. Of course, Ike, being a nice guy, didn't turn them down or realize that this was a come on.
The first one was understandable. By the tenth, however, made Soren grit his teeth. Ike's goodwill knew no bounds. Each time Ike tried to make his way towards Soren--and the lunch of fried chicken, picked up at a fast food place along the way. Soren had packed--another person asked for help.
Soren looked down at the bucket of chicken with disgust. So much for a nice 'relaxing' trip to the beach. As far as Soren was concerned, that was very likely mythical.
3.
Soren came back with a sunburn and a case of heatstroke despite staying under the umbrella almost the whole time. He also came down with a bad mood that lingered for days like a grey storm clouds that hang overhead, threatening rain, yet never delivering even the faintest drops.
(Soren abated somewhat when Ike had carried him off and applied aloe to his body. Only a little, however. His anger had a point.)
Soren probably would have preferred a quieter trip, such as to a library. But Ike couldn't fathom that spending a nice hour with a cup of tea studying could be in its own way, calming. It wasn't that he was being insensitive, Ike simply couldn't understand how the subjects he faltered in were always deeply fascinating to Soren, and no chore. Then Princess, now Queen Elincia's ill-fated attempt to take him to a ballet when she had tried dating him all those years ago elicited a very similar stare of no comprehension. Proving that she too could be a bit dense, the next attempt at a date was an opera. It later came out that Ike didn't even realize these were romantic attempts, and thought they were completely related to his job.
Instead, Soren curled up with a book. He hid a fact sheet between the pages of a large literary novel which was just prestigious enough to make people think he read for pleasure.
4.
It started with How about we see a movie together? and ended with Those explosions were laughably fake. What kind of 'hero' destroys the infrastructure of a city?
In between, the snacks were overpriced, the tickets were overpriced, and the people between them kept talking. Even worse, the couple in front of them kept making out.
Soren could hardly believe anyone would spend that much money to ruin someone else's movie. But as the old saying went: A fool and his money is soon parted.
But Ike held his hand during the whole laughably plotted show. If Soren added up the positives (Ike) and the negatives (everything else) it almost equaled out.
5.
"Ike, you've got to come see this!" Mist dragged him towards the kitchen.
The whole place was spotless in a way that usually signaled the internet was down. But Soren had gone a step further.
Soren was up on a fairly precarious position dusting the ceiling fan. Ike tilted his head. He didn't even know there was dust on the ceiling fan, let alone that it could be cleaned.
"Soren?"
Soren looked up and his precarious positioning shook beneath him. In an instant he was falling. It only took two steps for those great arms to catch and embrace Soren long before he reached the floor.
"You could've broken your neck," Ike said.
"More likely my spine at this angle," Soren said. " Probably the lumbar vertebra."
"Whichever. You could be in the hospital," Ike said.
"He needs vacation therapy!" Mist piped up.
"I have had enough of this 'vacation therapy.' I need a vacation from this vacation--preferably in the library."
"Hurry, get a him a book! Make it something really boring, like the history of slime mold!"
Soren gave her a disgusted glance. "Science isn't boring."
He brushed off the dust from his black turtleneck.
"Soren, I'm officially banning you for ladders. You know this is a two-person job."
"Fine, I'll keep myself busy elsewhere," Soren said.
"That's not the point of a 'vacation,'" Ike said.
Soren turned towards him. He gave the slightest grimace, like someone sucking on a lemon. This was his usual expression to everyone else—especially people he worked with—but when it came to Ike, slight annoyance was the closest he ever got.
"As far as I'm concerned, they're pointlesss," Soren said.
"That's the point, Soren," Ike said. "You're supposed to relax."
Soren let out a disgusted sigh, and set off to do something else which didn't involve letters.
5.
With his fan-dusting plans thwarted, Soren started to file their taxes in advance and reordered the file system for no other reason that if not, he'd be climbing up the walls. Soren didn't do pointless hobbies so now the free time got under his skin and nagged deep inside him with demands for progress.
But what progress was to be had. He didn't have a novel to work on, and volunteering his time without at the very least, a very good tax cut wasn't something Soren preferred to do.
It was Ike who gave away things so thoughtlessly. So much so that Soren would find the laundry soap, the entirety of the salt, and half their paycheck had been handed out to the needy.
But, Soren still could make something of the time. He started on the taxes. Sure, it was three months early, but all the better to get something productive completed.
Ike pried the files from Soren's hands. The pen in Soren's other hand fell to the table and rolled to a stop before the papers that Ike set down haphazardly, disordered on the desk.
A vein twitched. Soren stared down at the mess of the order he had tried so hard to create.
"Ike," Soren said. "What are you doing?"
"Helping," Ike said.
"Your helping leaves something to be desired," Soren said.
"Not filing. Helping you," Ike said. "This is a vacation. Filing is banned on vacation time, as is cleaning. It looks like a hospital in here lately."
"I went to that little beach outing, and that movie. That was more than enough of a break. And honestly I think this mandated vacation is ridiculous," Soren said.
"You spent the entire time glowering and came back with a sunburn and heat stroke, even though you never left the umbrella."
And Ike had spent it giving other people sunscreen back massages. If he'd started a tip jar, they could've easily paid for the gas home and then some.
"And you expected anything else?" Soren said.
"I just need to take a more direct approach," Ike said.
Without further ado, Ike lifted Soren up and slung him over his shoulder. Ike had long ago learned that when Soren was being troublesome, it was easier just to carry him off than actually try and make an argument.
"And what are we doing exactly? Soren said.
"Resting, napping eventually," Ike said.
"Hmm," Soren replied. With the feel of Ike's fingertips caressing the back of his arm, a stolen kiss, the soft feel of the bed beneath them... Soren had a feeling there wasn't going to be much sleeping involved in this 'resting'.
"So you're saying I should sleep away two weeks," Soren said. His voice was flat, given to the sort of annoyed tone that belied that his annoyance fell more to his coming giving in than simply the subject at hand.
"We could see what's on tv and eat hot Cheetos," Ike said.
He'd pass on the Cheetos. And the television, for that matter.
"...misplaced hibernation it is," Soren said.
He could easily curl into Ike, a fetal position with his forehead to Ike's chest and rest. Ike never minded, and despite his aloofness out of bed, the bed was another place entirely where Soren routinely got as close as was physically possible and then some.
6.
Ike learned a whole lot more about organic chemistry in those last weeks. Ike finally relented that reading a tome of organic chemistry could count as a break if he was horizontal and reading aloud. Besides, all Soren's worries of the lack of exercise from too much time in bed were calmed by Ike.
7.
Soren returned the next day for his office job to pay the college bills, and fully expected to see the whole building in shambles about him. He wasn't far off. It was predictable, really, that reports would not be finished and his useless coworkers would find yet another way to waste company funds on their incompetence.
That was the way of life.
"Did you enjoy your vacation time?" his boss said.
Soren looked thoughtful. It had been mostly unremarkable, and quite a bit of it had been downright disastrous. And yet, he could feel the sand beneath his toes, the ocean spray on his skin, and the smell of salt on him, on Ike.
"I suppose it was passable," he said.
And that was the highest compliment Soren could pay.
--
Title: Several Attempts At Relaxation, Most Of Which Failed
Series: FE10 (Dark Chocolate verse)
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, BoydMist
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2750
Summary: Giving Soren vacation time was like dolling out a punishment.
A/N:
I wanted to title this (and the series) "Saccharina" but then I found out that was part of the Latin term used for Silverfish..and Algae. Not a good name for a fic, obviously.
This is in the same series as Dark Chocolate and Anti-Romanticism. It's shortly after Anti-Romanticism but before the timeline started by
guety in Uninvited Guest.A very Merry Christmas to someone who I suppose will remain unnamed. I hope your Christmas gets much better after a hard couple years!!
1.
Giving Soren vacation time was like dolling out a punishment. Soren didn't know what to do with himself when he wasn't working. Work was what gave the world balance and without it, he was left with vast tracts of time to fill. When he wasn't working, he was studying Organic Chemistry for exams which were technically months away, but Soren's motto was to always be prepared. Whatever time wasn't taken up by working at a job he hated to pay for college, cramming for college or taking in nourishment was spent with Ike. Nowadays their together time consisted of Soren collapsing on the couch and falling asleep on Ike's lap before ten.
That did not mean, however that Soren would relish a break. Last time he had been laid off, he had alphabetized Ike's entire DVD collection, organized his closet by color and size, retiled the kitchen, and thrown out a hidden stash of questionable magazines that Ike claimed he'd never seen in his life when asked.
(Soren didn't doubt it. Ike would have no use for Big Breasted Biker Girls Monthly.The stash turned out to be Boyd's, and Soren took great pleasure in informing Mist of this. The result was something like a nuclear explosion and Boyd was put 'on probation' for an indeterminate time, anywhere from a week to the rest of his life for not sharing his stash.)
Soren did not do traditional relaxation. Or at all. Once Ike had attempted to take him to the beach. It had been disastrous, to say the least. Not in the explosions sense, but Ike had been ogled by bikini wearing girls Soren had been hot and uncomfortable and well away that he was wasting precious time.
But when Ike asked with an unassuming smile even Soren couldn't refuse.
"We really need to get out of the apartment," Ike said.
"We've already gone to the beach," Soren said. "If I remember correctly it failed the first time. It's highly unlikely that this will make any difference than the first."
"Yeah, but that was with the whole family. This time, it's just going to be us."
Us and your adoring fans Soren thought bitterly.
But he made no vocal complaint and went to change into something in the other room. Ike watched on, leaning against the door frame.
"You're not wearing black this time," Ike said. "Last time you managed to get heatstroke and sunburned, despite wearing a turtleneck."
"Wet clothes lose their protection," Soren muttered, as he opened up his closet. He picked up a gray turtleneck. It wasn't as if he owned anything in other shades.
Ike bent down to the closet and pulled out one of his own slightly less wrinkled shirts.
"Here, wear this," he said.
It was a lose blue shirt, three sizes too large for Soren.
"It's too large. I'll be swimming in it," Soren said.
Which was the closest Soren would come to swimming in anything.
"Go on," Ike said.
Soren pursed his lips but pulled the t-shirt over his head. I hung like a short dress on him, the collar was low enough that his clavicle peeked through.
"Looks fine, let's go," Ike said.
"Ike, I don't have anything else on."
"You could go like that. It doesn't look bad."
"Ike, the last time I looked like this, I didn't make it to work, because we never left for the restaurant," Soren said.
"Good point," Ike said.
But, considering the sand, and sun burns to come, that might be a good thing. Even though he was only half Daein, Soren didn't tan.
Soren didn't have wiles, at least of the seductive variety, nor did he waste money on overpriced pieces.
But, if all Ike's many admirers were going to be armed with bikinis, tight shorts, speedos and thongs, then Soren was wasn't going unarmed.
He left the shirt on.
2.
So much for being alone. Already Soren saw familiar, and for the moment, unwelcome faces.
Mist had gotten a cute new ruffled yellow Tankini and wished to try out. Boyd carried their things, stumbling behind her with an oversized umbrella. After this, she made him unpack the basket, for not sharing his magazines for her to see. The fact that Mist would want to read Big Breasted Biker Girl Monthly was a new, though not particularly stunning, revelation. She was, after all, Ike's sister.
("What else are boys for, other than lifting, anyways?" she'd once joked. Joked too close to Heather who couldn't agree more--except she added They're good for gifts to give to your favorite girls!")
Even more unwelcome, was a woman in biniki as thin as dental floss, with a floral cover up tied about her hips. Her dark hair fell in soft waves down her back, and she reeked of some perfume that surely had some promise of luring men.
The restraining order against her would end in days and several lovesick calls left Soren ever vigilant about her next move. She'd already threatened to go to the tabloids and paint a picture of her and Ike wedded in a secret ceremony. With people like Aimee around, Soren's paranoia was entirely founded.
She sat the exact amount stated by restraining order. Which was still uncomfortably close as she ate, openly flirted--as if that would make Ike 'jealous'--and endlessly took off her cover up, only to put it back on again.
Soren sat beneath the shade of an umbrella, as far from the crowd as he could manage. He didn't dare go too far out in the sun, not even with his 5 million SPF sunscreen on. Everyone knew it wasn't really waterproof. Besides, he was Daein.
The drive there had been the best part so far, Soren thought to himself. If only because Ike and Soren were alone then. The road to the Gallian coast offered lovely scenery. The beaches contrasted by the forests, and the hints of luguz settlements between the branches. Soren, however, wasn't watching the scenery.
Everything after went downhill, in Soren's opinion. The beach had grown far too noisy to read the report he'd snuck into a book to read.
Boyd could think of nothing better than dragging a kicking and screaming Mist into the water and splashing her. Had she ever taken a nap, he probably would have stolen her umbrella and buried her under layers of sand.
Soren looked at the water with disdain, glowered at the sand and glared at every bikini clad beauty that asked Ike to 'help put suntan lotion on their back'. Of course, Ike, being a nice guy, didn't turn them down or realize that this was a come on.
The first one was understandable. By the tenth, however, made Soren grit his teeth. Ike's goodwill knew no bounds. Each time Ike tried to make his way towards Soren--and the lunch of fried chicken, picked up at a fast food place along the way. Soren had packed--another person asked for help.
Soren looked down at the bucket of chicken with disgust. So much for a nice 'relaxing' trip to the beach. As far as Soren was concerned, that was very likely mythical.
3.
Soren came back with a sunburn and a case of heatstroke despite staying under the umbrella almost the whole time. He also came down with a bad mood that lingered for days like a grey storm clouds that hang overhead, threatening rain, yet never delivering even the faintest drops.
(Soren abated somewhat when Ike had carried him off and applied aloe to his body. Only a little, however. His anger had a point.)
Soren probably would have preferred a quieter trip, such as to a library. But Ike couldn't fathom that spending a nice hour with a cup of tea studying could be in its own way, calming. It wasn't that he was being insensitive, Ike simply couldn't understand how the subjects he faltered in were always deeply fascinating to Soren, and no chore. Then Princess, now Queen Elincia's ill-fated attempt to take him to a ballet when she had tried dating him all those years ago elicited a very similar stare of no comprehension. Proving that she too could be a bit dense, the next attempt at a date was an opera. It later came out that Ike didn't even realize these were romantic attempts, and thought they were completely related to his job.
Instead, Soren curled up with a book. He hid a fact sheet between the pages of a large literary novel which was just prestigious enough to make people think he read for pleasure.
4.
It started with How about we see a movie together? and ended with Those explosions were laughably fake. What kind of 'hero' destroys the infrastructure of a city?
In between, the snacks were overpriced, the tickets were overpriced, and the people between them kept talking. Even worse, the couple in front of them kept making out.
Soren could hardly believe anyone would spend that much money to ruin someone else's movie. But as the old saying went: A fool and his money is soon parted.
But Ike held his hand during the whole laughably plotted show. If Soren added up the positives (Ike) and the negatives (everything else) it almost equaled out.
5.
"Ike, you've got to come see this!" Mist dragged him towards the kitchen.
The whole place was spotless in a way that usually signaled the internet was down. But Soren had gone a step further.
Soren was up on a fairly precarious position dusting the ceiling fan. Ike tilted his head. He didn't even know there was dust on the ceiling fan, let alone that it could be cleaned.
"Soren?"
Soren looked up and his precarious positioning shook beneath him. In an instant he was falling. It only took two steps for those great arms to catch and embrace Soren long before he reached the floor.
"You could've broken your neck," Ike said.
"More likely my spine at this angle," Soren said. " Probably the lumbar vertebra."
"Whichever. You could be in the hospital," Ike said.
"He needs vacation therapy!" Mist piped up.
"I have had enough of this 'vacation therapy.' I need a vacation from this vacation--preferably in the library."
"Hurry, get a him a book! Make it something really boring, like the history of slime mold!"
Soren gave her a disgusted glance. "Science isn't boring."
He brushed off the dust from his black turtleneck.
"Soren, I'm officially banning you for ladders. You know this is a two-person job."
"Fine, I'll keep myself busy elsewhere," Soren said.
"That's not the point of a 'vacation,'" Ike said.
Soren turned towards him. He gave the slightest grimace, like someone sucking on a lemon. This was his usual expression to everyone else—especially people he worked with—but when it came to Ike, slight annoyance was the closest he ever got.
"As far as I'm concerned, they're pointlesss," Soren said.
"That's the point, Soren," Ike said. "You're supposed to relax."
Soren let out a disgusted sigh, and set off to do something else which didn't involve letters.
5.
With his fan-dusting plans thwarted, Soren started to file their taxes in advance and reordered the file system for no other reason that if not, he'd be climbing up the walls. Soren didn't do pointless hobbies so now the free time got under his skin and nagged deep inside him with demands for progress.
But what progress was to be had. He didn't have a novel to work on, and volunteering his time without at the very least, a very good tax cut wasn't something Soren preferred to do.
It was Ike who gave away things so thoughtlessly. So much so that Soren would find the laundry soap, the entirety of the salt, and half their paycheck had been handed out to the needy.
But, Soren still could make something of the time. He started on the taxes. Sure, it was three months early, but all the better to get something productive completed.
Ike pried the files from Soren's hands. The pen in Soren's other hand fell to the table and rolled to a stop before the papers that Ike set down haphazardly, disordered on the desk.
A vein twitched. Soren stared down at the mess of the order he had tried so hard to create.
"Ike," Soren said. "What are you doing?"
"Helping," Ike said.
"Your helping leaves something to be desired," Soren said.
"Not filing. Helping you," Ike said. "This is a vacation. Filing is banned on vacation time, as is cleaning. It looks like a hospital in here lately."
"I went to that little beach outing, and that movie. That was more than enough of a break. And honestly I think this mandated vacation is ridiculous," Soren said.
"You spent the entire time glowering and came back with a sunburn and heat stroke, even though you never left the umbrella."
And Ike had spent it giving other people sunscreen back massages. If he'd started a tip jar, they could've easily paid for the gas home and then some.
"And you expected anything else?" Soren said.
"I just need to take a more direct approach," Ike said.
Without further ado, Ike lifted Soren up and slung him over his shoulder. Ike had long ago learned that when Soren was being troublesome, it was easier just to carry him off than actually try and make an argument.
"And what are we doing exactly? Soren said.
"Resting, napping eventually," Ike said.
"Hmm," Soren replied. With the feel of Ike's fingertips caressing the back of his arm, a stolen kiss, the soft feel of the bed beneath them... Soren had a feeling there wasn't going to be much sleeping involved in this 'resting'.
"So you're saying I should sleep away two weeks," Soren said. His voice was flat, given to the sort of annoyed tone that belied that his annoyance fell more to his coming giving in than simply the subject at hand.
"We could see what's on tv and eat hot Cheetos," Ike said.
He'd pass on the Cheetos. And the television, for that matter.
"...misplaced hibernation it is," Soren said.
He could easily curl into Ike, a fetal position with his forehead to Ike's chest and rest. Ike never minded, and despite his aloofness out of bed, the bed was another place entirely where Soren routinely got as close as was physically possible and then some.
6.
Ike learned a whole lot more about organic chemistry in those last weeks. Ike finally relented that reading a tome of organic chemistry could count as a break if he was horizontal and reading aloud. Besides, all Soren's worries of the lack of exercise from too much time in bed were calmed by Ike.
7.
Soren returned the next day for his office job to pay the college bills, and fully expected to see the whole building in shambles about him. He wasn't far off. It was predictable, really, that reports would not be finished and his useless coworkers would find yet another way to waste company funds on their incompetence.
That was the way of life.
"Did you enjoy your vacation time?" his boss said.
Soren looked thoughtful. It had been mostly unremarkable, and quite a bit of it had been downright disastrous. And yet, he could feel the sand beneath his toes, the ocean spray on his skin, and the smell of salt on him, on Ike.
"I suppose it was passable," he said.
And that was the highest compliment Soren could pay.
--
